


Cheaters (Always) Prosper

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [94]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Banter, Con Artists, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Pool & Billiards, Sex, Smut, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8734156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: Europe isn't cheap and Caroline's been hustling pool games on the side to get some extra cash so she can enjoy some of the finer things. After working her magic on two fellow American tourists Klaus steps in and challenges her to a new game.He's way better than she'd thought and she doesn't like losing. An offer of double or nothing is made but Klaus sweetens the deal.





	

**Cheaters (Always) Prosper**

**(Prompts: "Klaroline+ Billiards + All Human + Smut or no smut." and "Could you write a drabble for #64? Thanks!" from the kink list prompts which is striptease. SMUT.)**

Caroline twirls a curl around her index finger as she collects her cash, wide eyed and utilizing her very best sweet southern girl simper, "Golly, that was a lucky shot. It's kinda silly that the one black ball is more important than all the others, isn't it?" from a pair of fellow tourists. They're also American, but from the west coast and neither had bothered to be subtle about checking her out every time she'd bent over the table. They'd both been distracted towards the end, allowing Caroline to go in for the kill, too busy trying to get her to cough up the name of the hostel she was staying at, prodding her about her plans for the evening.

She'd skillfully deflected, of course. They were cute enough, in an Abercrombie kind of way, but each reeked of eau de Axe and no way was she letting that nastiness rub into her skin. It smelled like middle school and sadness and Caroline was dubious about the cleanliness of the bathroom at her shared accommodations. She had no desire to spend a significant amount of time in the shower.

Plus, it's not like she's an amateur. Caroline's post grad school backpacking trip has been amazing, made all the more so by the occasional dinner at a world class restaurant and the odd purchase at a high end boutique that she can afford due to the hustling she does at pool tables in dive bars.

Kat was gonna be so jealous when she saw the studded Alaïa booties Caroline had picked up.

Guy #1 (who Caroline's been referring to as 'Troy' in her head because of his Zac Efron haircut) has just launched another attempt at getting her to leave with them, something about going to a club he's heard is "bomb" but he's interrupted. She feels someone at her back, a low voice near her ear, "Might I have the next game, sweetheart?"

Five days in London and the accent hasn't lost its appeal.

She's about to turn but Guy #2 reaches out to grab her arm, tugging her closer to him. Caroline digs her heels into the ground and shoots him a warning look. Unfortunately, he's not looking at her but at the guy who'd asked the question. "Sorry, man. She's gonna come with us."

Before Caroline can let out the emphatic, 'Um, no," that's brewing AccentGuy steps to her side and catches her eye. "Is she?" he asks curiously.

She awards him points for actually addressing _her_.

Caroline breaks Guy #2's hold (mentally rescinding the name she'd given him because Channing Tatum would _never_ ) and steps back. "Clubs aren't really my thing," she tells them, shaking her head in mock regret. "I can't dance. At all. And I'm really more of a Christian Pop kinda girl. Helps me stay pure."

A bigger pack of lies Caroline's never spoken but it seems to do the trick. Troy and RudeChanning both look crestfallen at the news that they have zero shot at getting into her pants (and bless their hearts for thinking she had standards that low) and quickly make excuses to leave.

Leaving her alone with AccentGuy. Whose name she should really learn. For accuracy's sake. The bar's pretty dead but he's definitely not the only English man in it. She'd noticed him when he'd come in, let her eyes rove over him appreciatively before she'd been distracted by her quarry. He'd been accompanied by a dark haired man in a _very_ nice suit – the kind that had 'mark with a fat wallet' written all over it. That guy's nowhere in sight but maybe AccentGuy will be good for padding her splurge fund. He's watching her now, a curl of what she thinks is amusement to his lips. "I'm Virginia," she tells him sticking her hand out for her to shake. He slides his palm into hers and she's surprised at the roughness of it. It's not unpleasant, not at all, but he just doesn't seem the type. He's definitely fit but it's the narrow hipped and lean variety, not construction worker beefy.

Well, Caroline's always liked a good puzzle.

She shakes his hand enthusiastically, and his full lips split into a genuine smile. "Klaus. And where are you from, _Virginia_?"

"Georgia," she lies smoothly. "Small town. Doubt you've ever heard of it."

"Try me. I've spent some time in the southern United States."

Hmm, there was something about the way he said it, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Almost like he was trying to call her bluff.

Caroline tosses her hair back, names the town her dad had settled in to with Steven and her step sister. The best lies were always prettied up with truth, after all. "I left for college. Don't get back much."

He nods in acceptance and then tips his head toward the pool table. "Since you've nowhere to be, how about that game?"

She flashes the collection of bills in her hand and bats her lashes flirtatiously, "Care to make it interesting? I think I'm really getting a hang of this whole pool thing."

He doesn't even blink, "Certainly. Shall we say, two hundred pounds?"

Caroline fights to keep from smiling. It's more than quadruple what her last game had netted her and she's got visions of premium seats to Wicked at The Apollo Victoria Theatre and dinner at Lime Orange dancing in her head. She glances around, "Won't your friend miss you?"

He laughs, "Elijah? No. He's my brother, actually. Had a bit of a lecture to deliver but he's headed home. Likes to be in bed by ten, that one."

She grins and folds up the cash she's already won, making a show of tucking it into her bra. Klaus' eyes flicker down but quickly return to her face. Caroline shrugs innocently. "This dress doesn't have pockets. Women's clothing is super impractical."

"Maybe. But that dress has other things going for it."

"Why Klaus," Caroline asks coyly, swaying closer and laying a hand on his chest, "have you been checking me out?"

"Perhaps," he says though he doesn't seem the least bit sorry about it. "It's difficult _not_ to look at you, Virginia."

He was a smooth talker too. Too bad she'd already decided to take his money. Most guys didn't react nearly as genially as the last two had but then she hadn't relived them of all that much. Generally a lot of puffed up indignation happened, snippiness at the fact that a girl had beaten them. Kind of made it hard to flirt afterwards. It would break her cover too.

Oh well. Maybe she'd find another hot guy at the play. One she could actually be Caroline with.

She leans over the table to start gathering up the balls. Klaus wanders over to the rack of cues. She watches with interest as his long fingers run over the options, as he hefts one and tests its weight. She feels a momentary pang of unease because he's _not_ moving like a rec player. She shakes the feeling off, sends him a sunny smile, "Do you want to break? That's the hardest part, right?"

Even if he knew his way around a table she wasn't new to this. When she'd been twelve years old Matt Donovan had sunk the eight ball and then earnestly told Caroline that it was okay, girls just sucked at games, over the pool table at Tyler Lockwood's.

She'd walked home fuming and had asked for a table of her own for Christmas. Her parents, still in guilt ridden post-divorce stage of indulging her whims so she stayed well adjusted, had one installed in the basement. Caroline had set up a practice regiment and soon she could do every trick shot she'd ever seen in a YouTube video.

She hadn't lost a game since.

* * *

Twenty-six minutes later Caroline's staring at the mostly cleared table (save for the still rolling cue ball and one of her stripes) in disbelief as Klaus leans against it, smirking at her.

She hates that she notes the necklaces peeking out from the neckline of his shirt, that she can still appreciate the way the thin cotton clings to his shoulders.

He'd _won_.

Warning bells had rung in her head when he'd lined up his first shot because of the sure way he'd gripped the cue, the perfect grace and force he'd used to break. Still, she'd remained confident though she'd breathed a little sigh of relief when he'd missed.

She should have dropped the act, sunk each ball with ruthless efficiency, but she hadn't wanted to make it obvious that she'd been swindling people. Perks of growing up with a sheriff for a mom, Caroline knew a thing or two about covering her tracks.

Such a mistake.

"Double or nothing," she blurts out, and almost slaps her hand over her mouth. Was she high? Had the Axe fumes scrambled her brain cells? She did not want to lose nearly $500 American dollars.

But if she broke…

"Double or nothing, and we make things a little more interesting."

Caroline narrows her eyes, instantly suspicious, "I am _not_ betting sexual favors."

"I don't need to win those. I'm merely asking for a few truths from you, love. For example, I know your name's not Virginia."

"Okay. That's creepy."

He rolls his eyes, points across the room at the bar, "The man who served your drink? My other brother Kol, who co-owns the bar. You showed him your I.D. Now, I suppose it's not impossible but it does seem odd that your name is Virginia. Especially given the fact that you lied about where you're from. He refused to disclose your name, however."

"Maybe I live in Virginia now," Caroline mutters, hating that she sounds petulant. She throws a dirty look over to the bar, receives a cheerful wave and a wink in return. She lets out a disgusted noise, turning back to Klaus. "Fine. It's Caroline."

"North or South?"

She huffs, annoyed. "It's actually Caroline. Do you want to see my license?"

"I'll trust you. As a show of good faith to get our game off on the correct foot."

"I haven't agreed to your little side game," Caroline points out.

"You will," he says, far too confidently.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're really annoying?"

"I have five siblings," he deadpans, eyes bright and not the least bit offended.

She bites her cheek to keep from smiling. What is _wrong_ with her? Why is she enjoying this? She adopts a tone of fake concern,"So getting called annoying is like a daily thing? Maybe you should think about _why_ that is."

He shrugs, "I am what I am. And you, Caroline, do not like to lose. _That's_ why you'll agree to another match."

"Again with the annoying," she grumbles. "What are your terms?"

"Three sets. Winner takes all. And you speak to me for the duration of the games."

"I _have_ been speaking to you." True, though the vast majority of what she'd said had been bullshit. Something Klaus is well aware of if his dismissive snort is anything to go by.

"Yes, and while listening to you ramble on about cow tipping has been _fascinating_ , I'm fairly certain every other word out of your pretty mouth has been drivel."

"Maybe. I've never done it," she admits. "It just seems mean. I'd be pretty pissed if someone walked into my house and shoved me when I was minding my own business eating my dinner, so…"

Klaus laughs, studying her with great interest. "That's the most interesting thing you've said all night, Caroline."

She felt her face warm but refused to look away. He had a way with pretty words and that just wasn't fair. She liked compliments, wasn't going to apologize for that. Having an attractive man look at you like he'd climb mountains to learn your secrets, then thank you for the privilege, was a heady thing.

Bonus, he already knew one of the big ones and he hadn't gotten judgy about her creative means of finding extra financing.

A throat clears behind them and Caroline jumps, startled. She hadn't noticed anyone approach. The bartender Klaus had pointed out (Kol, she remembers, and what is with the _names_?) offers her a smile before turning his attention to Klaus. "I've got a date. So either you and your tasty new American friend need to leave or you have to lock up."

Klaus pays his brother little mind, "Leave the keys on the bar."

Kol takes a few short steps back, "I was hoping you'd say that. There are also a few quick bits of book keeping you'll need to do. Nothing major. Have a fantastic evening!" he whirls and bolts, ignoring Klaus' irritated exclamation of his name.

His face smooths when he faces her once more, and she watches as he forces his ire down. "So, being annoying isn't just a you thing, huh?" Caroline jokes.

He blows out a breath, "I may be biased but I do believe Kol takes the award for _most_ annoying. Bekah would likely agree with me. Finn too. We've all invested in this place and Kol dislikes the more tedious bits of running the business. Is forever attempting to pawn the books off."

"Weird. Math is so soothing."

That earns her another laugh, quick and surprised.

Caroline crosses her arms defensively, "What? It's logical and orderly. Did you assume that just because I'm blonde I never mastered anything beyond long division?"

He holds up his hands, "Nothing of the sort, I promise. I suppose it might explain your affinity to the game, however."

Another accurate guess. Pool was similar in some ways, actions got predictable reactions. If she hit the ball in a certain spot, with a certain amount of force, she knew what would happen. She liked the control. Speaking of, "You mean the game you're going to lose?" she asks him sweetly, planting her hands on the felt and leaning forward. She lets her tone drop conspiratorially, "Because I was taking it easy on you, you know."

His eyes flash, darken at the challenge. "Don't," he says simply, a touch of gravel in his tone that hadn't been there before.

Oh, she definitely wouldn't.

* * *

She'd won the first game though it had been a struggle. The second's dragging on. Mostly because they've resorted to distraction techniques. It started when he pushed up his sleeves, clenched his hands around the edge of the table in one of the best displays of forearm porn Caroline had ever witnessed.

She'd actually _scratched_ and Klaus had radiated smugness.

At which point Caroline decided that it was _on_.

She'd excused herself, claimed a desperate need of the ladies room. Stripped off her cardigan _and_ her strapless bra while she'd been there. Loosened the adjustable straps on her sundress, all the better to let them strategically fall down later.

She'd ditched her shoes when she'd emerged, had exaggerated the groan of relief she'd felt at being free of the heels. She'd thought she'd seen his eye twitch at the throaty, satisfied noise.

The game had then taken a decidedly more _physical_ turn. She brushed passed him as she eyed her shots, touched him to nudge him out of her way. He followed suit, pressing himself lightly to her back and murmuring an offer of advice in her ear.

Please, like she'd _ever_ take it.

Still, she'd lingered when he swept her hair over one shoulder, skimmed his palm down her arm. Her body had hummed in anticipation, her skin heating more and more every time he touched her. She'd begun to sweat, her nipples grew painfully tight. Something Klaus definitely noticed. When his lips brushed she shoulder she'd shivered, and had to bite back a complaint when he'd moved away. She wanted more, open mouthed kisses, _teeth_. From the tightness of Klaus' jaw, the shallowness of his breathing, he had too.

Soon, Caroline decided. No matter what she has to do.

They'd continued talking, trading stories. She'd told him of the countries she'd been to so far, he'd revealed that he'd lived in New Orleans for a few years. She tells him why she'd learned to play pool, elbows him when he claims that her reasoning was exactly what he'd assumed. He explains that his biological father had taught him, that the man had used it as an icebreaker the first time they'd met when Klaus had been ten.

There's none of the awkward silences that sometimes happen with strangers. Caroline's pretty sure this is going to be one of the highlights of her trip.

"Tell me. Are you really a fan of Christian Pop?" Klaus asks knowingly, tipping his glass in her direction.

Caroline throws him an incredulous look, "God, no. I am a big fan of pop music, don't get me wrong. I just like mine without heavy doses of shame-y weirdness."

"Purity is an odd concept," Klaus says.

"Yeah, especially since it only applies if you have a vagina."

He nods his agreement, expression speculative. "I'm going to guess that you _can_ dance then."

Caroline grins, dips a quick curtsy, "I happen to have been Miss Mystic Falls. I could blow your mind in a ballroom. _Or_ a club."

He makes a considering noise, low in his throat. His face is carefully neutral and it makes Caroline suspicious. "I've been to plenty of clubs. Kol liked to think of it as research. I am not easily impressed."

He's baiting her. She knows it. But she doesn't mind.

She raises a brow, glancing around the room. "Do you have something I can plug my phone in to?"

A brief look of shock crosses his face but her shutters it. "Behind the bar."

Caroline whirls without another word, snagging her purse as she goes. She doesn't bother to look for where the bar top must flip up, turning and using her arms to boost herself up. She flashes a whole lot of leg when she pulls them up and spins but figures it doesn't matter.

Not when she's planning on losing her dress anyway.

Pulling all the curtains earlier had been a smart move.

She scrolls through her phone, finds something she knows she can move to, thinks the low deliberate beat will be a pretty big clue to her intentions. She glances up to find Klaus watching her, wearing hunger and the smallest bit of wonder as he looks at her. She smiles, slow and teasing, "You might want to take a seat."

She hears a chair scrape across the floor and the sounds of Klaus settling into it. The music starts up and she lets it wash over her. She hums, letting her body roll with the opening chords. Caroline closes her eyes, tossing her hair as she sinks into the motions. When they drift open they clash with Klaus's. His lips are parted, a gleam of wetness on the lower one. He's sitting stiffly, like it's an effort to remain in the chair.

Good.

She moves with more purpose this time, finding a foothold on a shelf and climbing on to the bar. She plants her knees and runs her hands through her hair before skimming them slowly down her sides to toy with the bottom of her dress. She shifts it up, lets it sway along the tops of her thighs. The groan Klaus makes when she lets it drop is pained.

She crooks her finger in his direction and his jaw tightens. He doesn't move so Caroline tips her head to the side, pushes the strap of her dress down. She strokes her own skin, lingering over the swell of her breasts. "I thought y'all were supposed to be polite here. Can't a girl get a hand down?" She slides the other side down, arches her back and takes a deep breath until her dress is barely clinging on.

Klaus curses, low and harsh, and he makes his way over in short, rapid steps. "Caroline," he rasps out warningly, "I didn't…"

So not the time for gentlemanly restraint. Caroline waves his words away impatiently, "Mean for me to take my clothes off? That's cool. I wanted to. Now touch me," she demands.

He reaches for her then, grasps her hips and touches his mouth to the valley between her breasts. Caroline's head falls back with a sigh, a garbled "Finally," coming out.

"You have no idea how tempting you are," Klaus mutters hoarsely. "I wanted you since I saw you cheerfully manipulating those boys. They hadn't the faintest idea that you were so much more than the pretty picture you presented."

Any reply is lost when he nudges her dress down. It pools about her waist and his lips wrap around her nipple. Her hands find their way into his hair. He sucks, and she moans, tugging at his curls. She pants his name in protest when he releases her but Klaus ignores her. He pulls her closer, and she follows the directions his hands make, until both her feet are settled on the ground.

Caroline shimmies her hips until her dress drops. Klaus skims a reverent hand down her back, fitting her into the line of his body. He slips a thigh between hers and Caroline takes it as an offering, tilting her hips and grinding herself against him in search of relief. The steady ache that had built between her legs sharpens, the heat and wetness encouraged by the heated looks and deliberate touches they'd shared growing. She surges up, presses her lips to his.

It's ridiculous that he hasn't even _kissed_ her yet.

Klaus hums, lips parting immediately. She licks into his mouth and clutches at his shoulders as he responds perfectly, his tongue taunting her with sensuous brushes as his hands pull her into him more firmly. He toys with the waistband of her underwear, thumbs slipping underneath to tease her hipbones. "Off," Caroline manages, pulling her lips from his for an instant. She realizes that's a brilliant idea and slips her hands down, under his shirt. "This too."

Klaus obliges, pulling back and stripping the fabric away. She reaches for him, greedy to discover the feel of his skin, learn how his muscles will react to his touch but Klaus gently bats her hands away. "Mmm, later," he murmurs, urging her to turn. "I'm afraid my mind formulated all sorts of naughty plans as I watched you grifting. Indulge me, won't you?" The low rumble of his voice, the fingertips skimming down her stomach are both impossible to resist. She nods and Klaus makes a pleased noise. "Hands on the bar, love."

She shudders, and clutches at the edge. "Good," Klaus praises. She barely hears him because his hand has dipped lower, the other cupping a breast. He thumbs her nipple as he traces her folds. Caroline widens her stance, head dipping forward as she bites her lip. She whimpers when he presses deeper, finding her slick. His touch is slow and careful as he traces her. He finds her clit, brushes over it. Caroline's thighs shake and Klaus repeats the motion. "Good?" he asks, voice rough. "Feel free to offer direction. I can take it."

"A little harder," she requests. Her breath hitches as he immediately obeys, his exploratory caresses turning to circles that have her hips chasing the movements and the sparks they create.

Klaus's mouth is on her shoulder, breath hot on the nape of her neck. She's relieved it's not entirely steady. She can feel his cock, hard and pressing into her ass, and she arches her back to push against it harder. He hisses and his hand abandons her breast. Caroline moans when her slips two fingers inside of her, his other hand tunneling into her underwear to continue teasing her clit. His fingers speed up, cock grinding into her with more purpose. "You know, I really should have left you on the bar. I believe the noises you'll make when I do this with my tongue will be _delightful_." He punctuates the word with a firm pinch to her clit and Caroline's body shakes, her head hitting the wood of the bar with a thunk as an orgasm washes over her.

He's still hot along her back when she can think again, tense even as his hands run soothingly down her sides. Caroline reaches back to peel her panties down. "Please tell me you have a condom," she says.

Klaus groans, and she hears a flurry of movement, hears his belt jingle as it hits the floor. A condom wrapper is tossed on the bar and she turns her head to look at him, watch his hands as he strokes it on. He smiles at her and she finds herself returning it, knows it's probably goofy. But he's not exactly playing it cool either, pink cheeked and watching her avidly, so she can't bring herself to feel embarrassed. Klaus tugs one of the stools over, wraps his hand around her knee and encourages her to prop her foot up on the lower rung. Then she feels the tip of his cock prodding at her entrance. Caroline lets out a shuddery breath and straightens, lifting one hand up and behind her to sink into his hair. She tips her hips, encouraging him, and he sinks into her with a groan that Caroline echoes.

She wants to praise him for the stool, because it's a really good call, but words aren't something she can formulate. She expects him to move, wants him to, could really go for a little fast and rough and messy (though she wouldn't say no to slow and lazy later on), but Klaus stays still. Caroline clenches down and he curses. His hands drop to span her hips. "You're trying to kill me," he mutters darkly.

"You'd be of no use to me dead," Caroline spits back, sneaking a hand down intent on touching herself.

Klaus thwarts her, yet again, and she whines. "I want you to come home with me," he tells her, before she can try again. "For tonight. Longer, if I can convince you. And I think I can."

Caroline _knows_ he can. And hey, she'd planned to spend another two weeks in London. After that, who knows? It's a no brainer.

The yes spills from her lips and then Klaus is moving, his hands on her hips helping her chase that perfect angle. She cries out when they find it and sets her own fingers on her clit. She rubs frantically and it's another quick climb to an amazing finish, Klaus' voice murmuring encouragements until she comes hard, her legs shaky and barely holding her.

Not a concern a few moments later. Klaus fulfills his promise, has her perched on the bar with her legs spread wide before the last flutters of orgasm have left her his tongue working over her folds, perfecting the motions he'd learned she liked.

They try the pool table afterwards. Luckily it's sturdy.

Klaus never does get to the books.


End file.
